


Why Today

by GrayceAdamsArchive



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Gen, I'm not a poet alright, Poetry, Written for fun and to try and kill my writer's block
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-21
Updated: 2013-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-05 09:31:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1092334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrayceAdamsArchive/pseuds/GrayceAdamsArchive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The woman across from me asks why today</p><p>Weeks after we put your coffin in the ground to lay</p><p>We banter back and forth, and still the words hurt to say</p><p>And she asks me once again, John, why today.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why Today

It seems to scream of you, this room

But you are not here, it’s almost like a tomb

Empty and cold and echoing of times gone by

Memory surges and I see you outlined against the sky

Tall and so very far away from where I stand

I remember the exact place, where I saw you land

Final and heartbreaking, the fall replays in my head

I still can’t bring myself to say aloud that you are dead

The headstone black and cold under my fingers

That final touch between us seems to linger

Searching for a pulse under your skin, please

To God I called out, falling to my knees

Begging to be let through to see you

In that moment I felt like I had died, too

A soldier’s stance, a best friend’s tears

You left me alone to face the coming years

Anger fills my heart for a moment, burning

I want it all to stop, but the world keeps turning

I can still see you, spinning in the center of your element

The final words, face to face, words I never meant

Echo in my head, _you machine_ , and my mind rebels

While my heart feels empty and hollow, and my hand trembles

The last words you said to me, _good-bye, John_ , echo

And I’m finding it so very, very hard to just let go.

I leave the room that screams so much of you

The world thinks you a liar, and I cling to what I know to be true

That the only lie you ever told me was that you were a fake

For lies and deception do not best friends make.

The woman across from me asks _why today_

Weeks after we put your coffin in the ground to lay

We banter back and forth, and still the words hurt to say

And she asks me once again, _John, why today_

So I choke back the pain that pounds in my head

And say softly, _Sherlock Holmes, my best friend, is dead._


End file.
